Jezebel
by Egon-Starcollector
Summary: A prequel to 'Echoes.' Snape sees Hermione pining after Harry and decides to do something about it....
1. Sickbed Musings

Jezebel  
  
--by Egon Starcollector  
  
Chapter 1: Sickbed Musings  
  
Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. If I make a penny off of this, there's something wrong.  
  
PG for a forthcoming catfight.  
  
Ah-CHOO!!!  
  
Severus Snape was not a happy wizard. Poppy Pomfrey had just informed him that the one ailment no one had yet discovered either a spell or a potion to cure was a Muggle cold. He would simply have to wait it out.  
  
Since the Pepper-Up Potion she'd given him to alleviate his symptoms had only upset his stomach, Snape was confined to his quarters for the duration.  
  
Severus Snape was bored out of his mind.  
  
He'd figured that one out after the third Origami Fluffy. He needed *something* to do. He was so bored he wanted to throw someone a Bar Mitzvah, except neither he nor any of the third years were Jewish. He wanted to do jumping jacks. He wanted to paint the ceiling glow-in-the-dark blue. He wanted to take square dancing lessons. He wanted to make modern art sculptures out of Muggle paper clips. He wanted to knit Flitwick a sweater--heck, he wanted to knit Flitwick a *house!* Never mind that he didn't know how to knit, he'd learn! He just needed something to occupy his time.  
  
Snape hated being bored. It gave him time to worry--and that was just what he was doing. He wasn't worried about the state of his classes; he reluctantly conceded that Remus Lupin, the returning DADA professor, was a tolerable substitute. He wasn't worried that the house elves were going to knit him a horrid pair of socks, nevermind that they'd sent up nothing but chicken soup and orange juice *every* *single* *meal* since they'd learned of his affliction. He wasn't worried that Hogwarts would be invaded by basilisks and Dementors. He wasn't worried that his old master would take advantage of his weakened state to exact revenge upon Snape's person.  
  
Well okay, he was a little worried about the socks.  
  
No, imminent world catastrophes weren't bothering Severus Snape. What had him so worried--was Hermione Granger.  
  
Now, it wasn't the girl herself. She was a brilliant young woman, and she seemed eminently capable of handling virtually anything life might throw her way. It was her love life that worried Snape.  
  
Snape had always felt that one of his biggest flaws was a tendency to meddle. Though he tried to curb it, he could not seem to keep his nose out of other peoples' business. God knew it was a big enough nose for that, he reflected with a rueful chuckle. However, *that* was why he was worried about Miss Granger.  
  
He had known for a long time--since about her first week at Hogwarts--that she fancied Harry Potter. Knew it, in fact, before she herself did. It was something in the way she looked at him that gave herself away. He also knew that deep down, Harry Potter fancied her as well. Unfortunately, Mr. Potter was not yet aware of that.  
  
Potter was still infatuated with that Ravenclaw Cho Chang. She'd virtually ignored him last year when her boyfriend Cedric Diggory died--but now, she looked at Harry Potter the way a predator eyes a helpless rabbit.  
  
Objectively, yes, Cho Chang was far prettier than Miss Granger. She was vibrant and intelligent, and she shared Potter's passion for Quidditch. But Snape knew that all she saw was the scar. The fame. Potter was a trophy to Cho Chang, nothing more.  
  
Miss Granger had grown more attractive in her years at Hogwarts, but she would never be a ravishing beauty like Miss Chang. She was bookish and, though she still seemed to be a know-it-all, Snape suspected that deep down she was really quite shy. However, she had let down her guard around Harry Potter. She knew him better than he knew himself, and she was his constant friend despite his flaws. Potter was a trophy to Cho Chang--but he was the world and more to Hermione Granger.  
  
Any man with a brain would have chosen Miss Granger in a heartbeat--but since when did boys of that age think with their brains, or even their hearts?  
  
If Harry Potter dated Cho Chang, Miss Granger's heart would be broken--and so, ultimately, would young Mr. Potter's. He and Miss Granger belonged together; Severus Snape was wise enough to recognize Fate when he saw it in action.  
  
Unfortunately, he'd heard a rumor that Potter intended to ask Miss Chang to the Fall Festival dance instead of Miss Granger. Snape could already see where this was going: Miss Granger crying her eyes out, Miss Chang leading Potter along and then likely throwing him over for someone else, Potter realizing his feelings for Miss Granger only to have her reject him.... He'd seen it all before. Severus Snape had learned a remarkable lot about romantic relationships simply by never having one. His conscious decision to remain permanently on the outside (painful though it had been, it was really for the best if there were no more Snape tyrants like his father) had put him in a perfect position to observe the mechanisms of the human heart...and he was a visual learner, after all.  
  
No, no...Snape wasn't going to let these two young hearts be broken if he could avoid it. He would have to do something almost as soon as he resumed teaching.... Hmm...where was that recipe for the OneTruth Potion...?  
  
"The return of Severus Snape, matchmaker," he chuckled softly. "They won't know what hit them." Ah-CHOO! 


	2. The OneTruth Potion

'Jezebel'  
  
--by Egon Starcollector  
  
Chapter 2: The OneTruth Potion  
  
Disclaimer: Moi? Own HP? Hah!  
  
PG for a forthcoming catfight.  
  
The first day Snape returned to teaching after his cold, the Gryffindors looked gloomy. They liked Lupin far better; Snape knew that. He sighed inwardly and began. "Today, we will study the OneTruth potion. It is a form of truth potion which is seldom used because it has a limited effect; however, it is in many ways more powerful than truth potion."  
  
He wrote the ingredients on the chalkboard. "The OneTruth potion will prompt you to ask your partner the one question you most wish him or her to answer. It will then compell him or her to give you a completely honest answer. You will probably be surprised by the questions and answers you are speaking; the potion causes you to expose your deepest subconscious, which even the most introspective person seldom knows explicitly. Now then, your pairings: Weasley, Brown...Potter, Granger...Malfoy, Parkinson...."  
  
Snape supressed a smile as the class paired off. He was doing this to bring Harry Potter and Hermione Granger together...but perhaps there would be other pairings, as well. That could only be a good thing in Severus Snape's mind.  
  
He demonstrated the procedure--nearly dropping the flask in the process--then let the students get to work. He sat back and watched them, pretending to be engrossed in a study of magical extracts. If Snape knew human nature at all--and he knew he did--either Potter or Miss Granger would ask a question that could only be romantically leading. And the answer...? Well, he was pretty sure he knew what that would be, too.  
  
He really hoped Mr. Longbottom didn't cause another explosion. Some of those potions were deadly when they combusted, and Snape lived in fear of the day that toxic fumes might erupt in his classroom. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get all the students out in time.... *Lord, I have so much on my conscience already...I could never live with that.* Though Snape would never admit it aloud, children were his weakness. Dumbledore had seen that; that was the main reason he'd hired Snape to teach. Although Snape knew he was not a popular teacher, he also believed the students needed discipline--especially in such a tricky art as potion mixing. So, he had to play the strict father figure. It was, after all, as close as he would ever come.  
  
Severus Snape would have loved a family of his own...but his earliest memories were of his father's beatings. The Snape men were known for their tempers, and Eldred Snape had been one of the worst. Severus had sworn at an early age that he would never bring a child into the world so that no child would have to endure the things he'd known. He felt he himself would have been a good father--but he wasn't sure he could trust his Snape blood. And besides, one of his sons might have had Eldred's temper....  
  
It had been difficult for the young boy to be so cold. Snape's mother had died giving birth to him, but his older sister Augusta had raised him--almost as if he were hers--to be a kind, respectful young man. She had been six years his senior, but he'd adored her. He still recalled the first words he'd said when he got his letter from Hogwarts: "Now I can go to the same school as Augusta!" There was nothing incestuous in his love; he merely idolized his brilliant, gentle sister.  
  
Ironically, the year he'd thought would be one of the happiest of his life had been--easily--the worst. It had started out well enough: though he and Augusta were in different houses--he in Slytherin, she in Gryffindor--and different years, she always made time for him. He made one or two friends, and he had a crush on the pretty young Transfiguration teacher, Miss McGonagall. But all was not well: the Muggle Studies teacher was a handsome, watery-eyed young man named Harvey Bender. Unbeknownst to Dumbledore, Bender knew a thing or two about the Dark Arts--and used them.  
  
A Seduction Spell--one of the most heartless enchantments, Snape thought. Many of the girls in sixth and seventh year had fallen victim, including...including Augusta. Snape's eyes burned with tears to remember it. She, like some of the other girls, soon learned she was carrying Bender's child. But whereas the other girls either gave the children up or slipped off to Muggle hospitals to get rid of them (since no honorable witch or wizard would perform the "operation"), Augusta--gentle, fragile Augusta--chose a different option. Knowing Eldred would never understand, and knowing she couldn't face her shame...she had ended her life by drinking nightshade extract. She had died with her brother clinging to her hand, begging her not to leave him.  
  
That precise moment was when Severus Snape had learned to close the doors of his heart.  
  
Snapping himself out of his reverie, Snape noticed that most of the students were almost done with their potions. So far, even Mr. Longbottom's potion showed no signs of spontaneous combustion. Snape watched the proceedings now with interest.  
  
Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were the first to finish and sample their potion. They sat silent for a moment, then at the same moment turned to each other and asked, "Would you go to the Harvest Festival ball with me?" They were visibly shocked...then they both blurted, "Yes!"  
  
Snape let out his breath (*How long have I been holding it?*) and sat back in his seat. Ronald Weasley and Lavender Brown seemed to be having an exchange similar to Miss Granger and Mr. Potter's, while Pansy Parkinson asked Draco Malfoy to marry her and he responded by asking why she didn't simply die. Hm, Snape hadn't expected that harsh a response.  
  
At the end of class, the students filed out. Some were laughing, some were making plans, some (like Pansy Parkinson) were in tears, while others (like Draco Malfoy) were visibly disgusted. As Hermione Granger stepped out the door, Harry Potter surprised her by grasping her hand shyly.  
  
Snape folded his hands behind his head, a broad grin spreading over his face. "Another job well done, Sev ol' boy."  
  
Author's note: Ah, but all is not well...not yet. This story's called 'Jezebel' for a reason. And please don't attack me for my pro-life stance, thankyouverymuch. Just relax and wait for the catfight...oh yeah, and even a little fluffiness later on! 


	3. Those Who Would Destroy the Prophets of ...

Jezebel  
  
--by Egon Starcollector  
  
Chapter 3: Those Who Would Destroy the Prophets of God  
  
Disclaimer: Ahhh...fuhgeddaboudit...you know who owns them.  
  
Rating: Okay, okay, *now* it's PG! :)  
  
Author's note: The POV will shift back and forth between Snape and Hermione for a bit as poor Severus can't be *everywhere* at once.  
  
The storm hit shortly after supper. Snape hadn't seen it rain like this since...since the night Harvey Bender was sent to Azkaban. He'd been sentence to life imprisonment for "use of magic indirectly resulting in the death of an innocent victim"--meaning that while he couldn't be tried for murder, the court still held him responsible for Augusta's death.  
  
Snape still remembered seeing Bender in the hall after the trial. "Well, was it worth it?" he'd asked him.  
  
"You bet, sonny...and your sister was the best of the bunch!"  
  
Little Severus spat in Bender's face and sneered, "I hear Azkaban is lovely this time of year." He knew it wasn't, but in his young mind he wanted to build the man's hopes up so the torment would be even worse.  
  
After all these years, he still wondered if maybe, just maybe, it had worked.  
  
He wondered how long Bender's mind had lasted...the Dementors had probably feasted on his memories of those poor, innocent girls. Snape devoutly hoped that Augusta's face had been the one to break him.  
  
He sat down at his desk and picked up the pewter frame that always watched over his work. The picture showed a pretty young woman of sixteen. Her straight black hair brushed the shoulders of her powder-blue sweater. She was giggling, smiling, and waving at her best friend, who held the camera. "Augusta...."  
  
Harvey Bender was the reason Snape coveted the DADA job--someone had to teach girls to defend themselves, after all. And Augusta Snape was the reason he always wore black. He was still in deep mourning, all these years later. He didn't care if it made him seem morbid and obsessive. He knew too well that deep down, part of him was still an eleven-year-old boy watching the only person he'd ever loved die in agony. If he looked closely, he could still see the scars where she'd clawed his hand....  
  
"Aggie, please! Please don't die!"  
  
"Sev...I'm sorry...that it had to be this way. I didn't have any choice...."  
  
"But there must be something they can do!"  
  
"I love you, Sevvie...." She was the only person who ever told him that. She'd choked on his childhood nickname...gagged...her eyes rolled back in her head...and her hand went limp.  
  
"AGGGGGIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
A deafening roar of thunder split the air around Hogwarts as a single tear slid down Snape's cheek and landed on Augusta's picture.  
  
He knew now why mourners wore black. For him, it reflected the shadow that had covered his life for so many years...the shadow that was the only thing left when his guiding light, his sister, closed her eyes to this world forever.  
  
It was a sheeting rain outside; Snape could hear it pounding on the roof. He was on his way up from his office to the staff meeting room, which was where he thought he'd left his best grading quill. As he passed a hall window.... "Harry!" What? He must be hearing things...but no. Hermione Granger was standing outside, soaked to the skin and screaming Harry Potter's name.  
  
"That's no place for a date," he muttered quietly. He was tempted to give the girl detention for endangering her health like that. He made a note to speak to her and Potter about their choice in rendezvous spots...but as he neared the Great Hall, the note was wiped clean from his mind. There stood Harry Potter, back to the wall, clearly cornered by Cho Chang.  
  
"Now Harry...you *do* know the ball is coming up...?"  
  
This, decided Snape, was unacceptable. His quill could wait; this could not. He summoned his rain cloak and hurried outside.  
  
Hermione was cold, angry, and thoroughly saturated. How dare Harry do this to her! He asked her to meet him by the lake, and then had the gall to leave her standing outside when it started to storm! Where *was* he, anyway? "Harry!" She was going to be horse at this rate....  
  
She looked up to see a cloaked figure coming towards her. Finally! She was going to give him such a piece of her mind.... Oh no wait...that was too tall to be Harry! "Professor Snape!" she gasped in despair. Great, now she was going to have pneumonia *and* a week of detentions!  
  
"Professor look, I can explain...."  
"No time for that!" To Hermione's shock, a...kind...expression spread over the man's face. "Right now, you had best go and claim what is rightfully yours." Without another word, he turned and went back into the castle.  
  
Hermione stood speechless for a moment. What...could he mean Harry? She hurried into the castle, only to find Harry Potter mere inches away from Cho Chang's lips.  
  
"Um, Cho, may I ask what you're doing with my date for the ball?"  
  
"Oh but Hermione, you *must* be mistaken. Harry was just about to ask me to the ball...weren't you, Harry?"  
  
That did it. Before Harry could answer, Hermione grabbed Cho by the hair and pulled the Asian girl away from him. "I beg to differ." CRACK! Hermione's fist connected with Cho's jaw, sending the girl sprawling. Cho glared at her, then lept up like a tight spring uncoiling. She knocked Hermione to the ground, and soon the two of them were rolling on the floor kicking and biting and punching and pulling hair. Hermione gave Cho a black eye. Cho left claw marks on Hermione's face. Hermione bit Cho and tore her robes. Cho yanked out a tuft of Hermione's hair. Hermione threw Cho, wrenching Cho's shoulder. Cho wrestled Hermione back to the ground and sprained her finger for her. Hermione kicked Cho in the kneecap, knocking her down again. Cho slapped Hermione as hard as she could.  
  
Ronald Weasley showed up looking for Harry; seeing the girls trying to tear each other to pieces, he abruptly broke into his best--or was it worst?--Lee Jordan impression. "Ladeeees and gennlemen, the fight of the century is on right here at Hogwarts. In this corner, weighing one hundred pounds, Miss Cho Chang of Ravenclaw. In the other corner...HEY!" He didn't get to finish as one of the girl's feet hit him in the back of the knee, knocking him backwards into the fray. His hair was standing on end and he was missing a show before he got away from them.  
  
A bunch of boys--mostly third years--soon gathered around the spectacle. "Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" Well, the two young women didn't need instructions; they were certainly doing that. Now they were standing, now they were tackling each other to the floor again. Now Hermione was winning, now Cho. Now they were just a tangle of flailing limbs and ripping robes, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor utterly indistiguishable from each other. Cho was wiry, but Hermione soon gained the upper hand. She was straddling Cho, fist raised to shatter Cho's perfect nose into a hundred pieces, when someone pulled her off.  
  
"Miss Granger!" Snape again, of all people. Really, Hermione was starting to get paranoid. "You *are* aware that fighting is prohibited on Hogwarts grounds."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Ten points each from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for fighting. Both of you ladies will serve detention. Miss Granger, you will serve yours tomorrow night helping Professor Hagrid feed the animals. Miss Chang, you will spend next Saturday night helping Miss Pince clean the library shelves; she informs me they need it badly."  
  
"But, but, Professor! Next Saturday night is the ball!"  
  
"I am aware of that, Miss Chang. Now Miss Granger...." Here, to Hermione's utter disbelief, he raised her hand to the level of her shoulder and pressed it into a fist. "Next time, keep your wrist straight. If you bend your wrist, you lose much of the force behind the punch. Also, try to aim for a spot about two inches below the skin; that will increase the force at the point of actual contact. However, your uppercut is excellent." He turned to glare at the crowd of students. "There's nothing to see here, people. Move along. Ladies, do not forget your detentions."  
  
Hermione felt as though she'd landed in an episode of the Muggle television show 'The Twilight Zone.' Was this really happening?  
  
"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry's voice broke her train of thought.  
  
"Hm? Oh, yes...I guess I am."  
  
"I think you need some rest."  
  
"I know *I* do after that. You girls hit hard!"  
  
"Shut up, Ron." 


	4. Flights of Fancy

Jezebel  
  
--by Egon Starcollector  
  
Chapter 4: Flights of Fancy  
  
Disclaimer: Is this really necessary anymore? I mean honestly....  
  
Author's note: Be warned, this chapter is fluffier than Hedwig. And how about Harry's POV at first, just for variety?  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Harry wandered aimlessly through the halls. He couldn't believe he'd just seen Hermione and Cho get into a fight--over him, of all people! *And I was too stunned even to stop it.*  
  
"Potter, you look like a zombie."  
  
Harry jumped. "Oh, hello Professor." What was the deal with Snape lately? He was always being nice! Of course, he'd always had a tendency to turn up at the worst possible times...but now he was worse than ever! Harry was starting to wonder if he was accidentally conjuring the man!  
  
"You look worried. I assume that stems from the, erm, fisticuffs earlier?" He looked genuinely concerned.  
  
"Yes, sir." Harry sighed. "I don't know why Hermione thought she'd have to do that...there's no way I'd have gone to the dance with Cho. I mean...I'm just a trophy to Cho; I've figured that much out."  
  
"But is Miss Granger aware of that fact?"  
  
Harry thought for a moment. "Probably not." Snape just nodded. Harry changed the subject abruptly. "Is it strange to think someone's beautiful when objectively she's not even terribly pretty?" *I can't believe I'm confiding in Snape!*  
  
Snape looked pensive. "A Muggle by the name of Antoine de Saint-Exupery said it best: 'It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.' Miss Granger--I assume that is the person you mean--will probably not win any beauty pageants, but her heart is kind and true. It is her heart that you see, and that is why you consider her beautiful. It definitely is a sign of growing maturity, Potter." For the first time Harry could recall, Snape's tone was actually approving--almost proud!  
  
"Th-thank you, sir."  
  
Snape nodded. "Now back to your dorm before curfew. And remember--Miss Granger may be brilliant, but she is no mind reader."  
  
"All right. Goodnight, sir."  
  
Hermione sat on her bed, unable to sleep despite the lateness of the hour. She still couldn't believe she'd hit Cho--but the nerve of that girl! Thinking she could just walk in and take Harry just because she decided he'd look nice on her arm!  
  
Suddenly, Hermione heard a noise at the window. She poked her head out of the bed curtains to see.... "Harry?" She pulled on her robe, then walked over and opened the window. "What are you doing?" Actually, the "what" was obvious: he was sitting, fully dressed, on his broomstick and floating outside her window. The "why" was what concerned her.  
  
"Care for a flight?"  
  
"Are you mad? We could get caught!"  
  
"I brought my cloak! Hermione, we need to talk--and it really can't wait."  
  
She sighed. "All right; just a moment."  
  
She stepped into the bathroom and dressed quickly. Against her better judgement, she climbed out the window and onto the back of Harry's broom. She put her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, burying her face in his back so she wouldn't have to see how far they were from the ground. She felt something soft land on her and realized it must be his invisibility cloak. She wondered how effective it would be while they were flying....  
  
She hung on to him, silently praying that the trip was a short one...much sooner than she expected, she felt the earth under her feet again and sighed with relief. "Where are we?"  
  
"Peek out and see for yourself."  
  
"Oh..the lake...I don't think I've ever seen so many stars!"  
  
"Well, I didn't bring you out here to work on Astronomy. Hermione, about that fight earlier...."  
"Harry I'm sorry...I don't know what came over me. It's just...you're nothing but a trophy to her! I couldn't stand the thought of seeing you hurt! I...." Her words were cut off by the gentle pressure of Harry's fingers on her lips.  
  
"Ssh. I know. I know that's the only reason she's interested in me. Hermione, I wasn't going to ask her to the dance. Why would I ask her to the dance when I love *you?*"  
  
"Mmf?" Hermione wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.  
  
"I said, I love you. Looking back, I think I have since you first poked your head into the train compartment--or at least since you fixed my glasses." He felt her smile under his fingertips. "I'm just sorry it took me so long to realize it." He pulled his hand away from her mouth.  
  
"Harry, why did..." He shushed her again...but this time, with his lips. "Harry, you're being very rude," she said when he pulled away. "You aren't even giving me a chance to say that I love you too."  
  
With that, Harry let out a whoop that caused heads to turn all the way to Azkaban, then he pulled her into another kiss.  
  
And poor Filch--who never found the source of the noise--spent the rest of his days insisting that the giant squid could yodel.  
  
Author's note: Five years at the top of my French class and I have Snape quoting Saint-Ex. And next, we dance! 


	5. Tonight Is Magic for Love

Jezebel  
  
--by Egon Starcollector  
  
Chapter 5: Tonight Is Magic for Love  
  
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and co. are the property of J.K. Rowling. "Annie's Song" copywright John Denver. "Magic" copywright Michael Nesmith-- and yes, I know some of the words are misspelled, but that's how Papa Nez spelled them. *shrug* Who am I to argue?  
  
Author's note: Sorry this took so long. I wasn't planning to make this part a songfic, but I gotten bitten on the nose by this little idea bunny...so I had to find these lyrics. Then we had company all weekend because of a blizzard...yowza.  
  
Acknowledgements are at the end.  
  
  
  
Severus Snape pulled a black robe with electric blue satin trim out of his wardrobe. "Not that one, it makes you look like a peacock!"  
  
Snape glared at his mirror, but put the robe back and pulled out one with a touch of green. "NO."  
  
Snape grumbled, put the robe back, and pulled out one with silver trim. "Perfect."  
  
"You pick this one every time I have to go to one of these things. People probably think it's the only dress robe I own."  
  
"I'm just trying to keep you from looking like even more of a git than you already are."  
  
"When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you." With that, Snape stormed off for the shower.  
  
"Oh, don't forget your hair potion. It's starting to wear off, and you don't want to go to the ball looking like that Muggle Don King."  
  
"AAAAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory....  
  
"You fill up my senses, like a night in the forest...."  
  
Ron Weasley groaned and buried his head under his pillow. Usually when Harry was in the shower, he only got through the Backstreet Boys' "Larger than Life" and Duran Duran's "The Reflex." This time, however, he'd gotten through those, Sugar Ray's "Every Morning," Jimmy Buffett's "Margaritaville," Rick James's "Super Freak"--and now he was starting on John Denver's "Annie's Song." The young man was giving Ron a veritable college education in Muggle music!  
  
It wasn't that Harry was a bad singer; far from it. It was just that at this rate, none of the rest of them would have time to prepare for the ball. Seamus Finnegan pounded on the bathroom door. "Come on, Harry, you're not the only one with a date you know!" Indeed, Seamus had been babbling all week about how Parvati Patil had agreed to go with him.  
  
Just then, Harry stepped out of the room. *Oi, he sparkles!* Ron thought. Just as Harry stepped out of the way, Ron, Seamus, and Dean Thomas ran for the bathroom at the same time. It took them nearly ten minutes to get untangled and unstuck.  
  
  
  
The Harvest Festival Ball and the harvest moon happened to fall on the same crisp Saturday night that year. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall showed the moon in all her glory, and the hall was decorated in shades of gold to match. Gold streamers hung from the walls, gold cloths covered the tables, and gold tapers wound with red-and-gold leaves floated in little gilded fruit wreaths in the air.  
  
The students chattered excitedly as they entered the hall. Ron made a beeline for Lavender, who wore a lavender off-the-shoulder gown that shimmered softly in the candlelight. Seamus was soon arm-in-arm with a royal-purple-clad Parvati. Much to the surprise of everyone who hadn't been in their History of Magic class, Dean Thomas was wrapped up in an intense conversation with Parvati's twin Padma, who wore a gown of fuschia silk.  
  
Everyone, it seemed, had someone special--everyone except Ginny Weasley, who'd been unable to choose between two boys, and the two young men who'd asked her. Consequently, Ginny had offered to help with the decorations (the twins, Fred and George, had invented some special fireworks, and it was Ginny's job to fire them off when Dumbledore gave her a signal), while her two would-be suitors--Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy--had a tentative appointment to glare at each other in the library.  
  
Even Draco's rejected admirer Pansy Parkinson had a date. She and Milicent Bulstrode had dates with Draco's friends Crabbe and Goyle (both of whom were turning out to be slightly less dull than anticipated).  
  
When Hermione stepped into the hall, Harry's heart nearly stopped. Her gown was the same blue as a January moon. It had a gathered neckline that she'd pulled discreetly off her shoulders and a fitted bodice that flowed slowly into a full skirt which swept the floor. Her long, thick hair was up in a french braid that set off not only her silver-and- aquamarine necklace, but also the slender neck that held it. *Just how exactly did it take me this long to realize I adored her?* Harry wondered.  
  
"Good evening, students," Dumbledore spoke, grabbing the attention of everyone in the room. "First of all, I'm sorry to have to tell you that the Astronomy Tower is closed off due to a problem with the stairs." There were several groans, and Dumbledore relaxed. They fell for it. There'd been some...awkward developments...following past dances that occurred on full moons, and he didn't want that to happen this time. "The band for this evening is Enchante, a group of recent Beaxbatons graduates. They specialize in Muggle music from the 1980's, so I hope you enjoy them. And with that, let the ball begin." He waved his hands grandly, signalling the start of the music.  
  
The band's opening song was "Super Freak." Crabbe and Goyle were leading Pansy and Milicent clumsily through the polka. Both young witches looked like they wanted to sink straight into the dungeon.  
  
Snape leaned towards Flitwick. "Do you want to inform them they're doing the wrong dance or should I?"  
  
"I believe it's your turn, Severus."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Is too."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Is too."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Is too."  
  
"Is not."  
  
"Is too." The conversation proceeded thusly until the song ended, thereby eliminating the reason for debate. It was the best solution the men had ever devised.  
  
Harry and Hermione sat in chairs near the wall, shyly trying to make conversation. *Nothing like going on a date with your best friend to kill comfortable banter,* Hermione thought wryly.  
  
"Hey, look at that!" Harry pointed across the room to where Ron was attempting to dance with Lavender.  
  
"What in the world...?" Ron's dance was unlike any Hermione had ever seen--or any that any living person had ever seen, for that matter. He was jumping up and down, flapping his arms, and evidently doing his best to look like a deranged chicken. Ronald Weasley had many gifts, but a sense of rhythm clearly was not one of them.  
  
"Is he supposed to be doing that?"  
  
"I think he's trying to signal something." She squinted slightly, as if trying to decipher a code. "My--horse--has--green--hair." Harry burst out laughing and nearly sprayed punch out of his nose.  
  
"You're joking, right?"  
  
"I _think_ so."  
  
Harry studied the redhead a moment longer. "Are you sure his shorts aren't on fire?"  
  
"Ah...ah...th-that's his business."  
  
Midway through the evening, the band took a break while the students ate dinner. The main course was baked ham with glazed apples, with side dishes of pasta and baby carrots.  
  
Following a towering German chocolate cake, the band resumed with some slow jazz instrumentals to let everyone's stomach settle. Soon enough, though, they picked up the beat. "Guys, grab your jolies femmes because it's time to rock and roll!" With those words, the band broke into "Wake Me up Before You Go-Go."  
  
Snape thought for a moment, looking at McGonagall. *Why not...just for old times' sake?* He walked over to her. "Minerva, may I have this dance?"  
  
She was stunned, but gave a faint shrug and agreed. They stepped out onto the floor, and he began to lead her through the jitterbug.  
  
Harry and Hermione were the only other couple dancing (most of the others gave up). Snape and Harry suddenly made eye contact and nodded as they reached a silent understanding. Snape suddenly swung McGonagall into a complicated spin, while Harry made Hermione slide between his legs (and if she hadn't ducked, he'd have gotten her nose right in his zipper). A few turns later, Hermione and McGonagall breathlessly met each other's eyes. Snape and Harry were trying to out-dance each other, and they as their partners were merely being dragged along for the ride!  
  
Dumbledore and Flitwick watched the proceedings with amusment. "Fascinating...I don't think I've seen Severus dance since his sister died."  
  
"I believe you're right, Albus...didn't he and Augusta win the jitterbug contest shortly before her demise?"  
  
"They certainly did. I see Severus hasn't lost his touch. Do me a favor, though...check his pumpkin juice and make sure it hasn't fermented."  
  
Harry finally won the impromptu competition when he swept Hermione into his arms for a mind-shattering kiss. Snape threw up his hands in defeat and declared, "No offense, Minerva, but I can't compete!" She chuckled understandingly and said he was an excellent dancer nonetheless.  
  
A few songs later, the candles suddenly dimmed. "The full moon is the moon of amour, mes amis. And love...means slow dancing." After saying this, the lead singer--a tall, dark-haired wizard named Michel--cleared his throat and began to sing in a doo-woppy falsetto:  
  
This nite is magic  
  
I can tell by the stars  
  
This nite is magic  
  
With you in my arms  
  
It would be tragic  
  
If we ever part  
  
Tonight is magic for love  
  
"Hermione...may I have this dance?" Harry whispered nervously.  
  
"Certainly." She slid her arms gracefully around his neck. He pulled her close and started to sway.  
  
You know I love you  
  
Look in my eyes  
  
You know I love you  
  
It's paradise  
  
For me to love you  
  
And drift through the skies  
  
The skies of magic and love  
  
If you believe it will always come true  
  
That's the magic of love  
  
I keep believing I'll always have you  
  
That's the magic of trust  
  
"I love you, Hermione...I know I wouldn't be alive now if it weren't for you."  
  
"Oh Harry...how many times do I have to tell you you're a great wizard?"  
  
"No Hermione...I'm only great when you're by my side."  
  
"Harry...!" She squeezed him gently, burying her face in his shirt to hide the faint blush that crept to her cheeks.  
  
This love is magic  
  
I feel it inside  
  
This love is magic  
  
There's nothing to hide  
  
Our life is magic  
  
We'll stay side by side  
  
And feel the magic of love  
  
Hermione let go reluctantly as the song ended--but Harry had other ideas. He pulled her into a gentle kiss, knowing in his heart that he would be great...because he knew he would always have his Hermione. With her near him, he could do anything.  
  
Snape kicked back in his chair, a faint, satisfied smile spreading across his lips. He watched as the two young lovers smiled at each other as though they'd looked into the mirror of Erised and been told everything they saw would come to pass.  
  
Snape had looked into that blamed mirror once and had nearly gone mad from what he saw. It showed him, married to Minerva McGonagall and raising a houseful of children--and it showed Augusta, playing the doting aunt. It had taken every ounce of his strength not to smash the mirror then and there.  
  
No, he could never bring Augusta back. No, there would be no happy ending for him personally, anymore than there had been one for Augusta (who'd so richly deserved one). This was as close to a happy ending as Severus Snape would ever get--and looking at Harry and Hermione, he decided that it was enough.  
  
*Mission accomplished,* he thought. *I suppose now I can go back to being the strict, grumpy git everyone's come to expect.* Then he heard the band start another jitterbug. *_After_ the ball.*  
  
Author's note: Whew! Now for some thank-you's.  
  
First of all, God.  
  
Second, all of my reviewers (even the negative reviews help me learn something).  
  
A special thanks to two reviewers in particular:  
  
E.C.R. Potter: it means a lot to have a genius review every chapter.  
  
And most especially...  
  
Animagus-steph: I could never have gotten through this brute without your constant encouragement. Thanks forever. :)  
  
A big thanks also to my betas:  
  
Ghostdreaming Angel and Big Mama: Between the two of you, you keep me balanced. As I always say, best friends wear Harry Potter slippersocks and drool over the cute guys in Lord of the Rings. ;)  
  
Nanyan Shikaze: You're the Harry to my Hermione. Thanks babe.  
  
Translations:  
  
Jolies femmes: pretty women.  
  
Amour: love.  
  
Mes amis: my friends. 


End file.
